Hey Lucy
by ohEvangeline
Summary: Life after Hogwarts took them in opposite directions, but he never forgot the girl he left behind. Now he's hoping she'll remember him.
1. Can't Help Myself

A/N: Yep, Shiloh is posting the first new piece in over a year. And guess what? It's a complete short story. Actually I've been working on this for two years. But it's only four chapters, so I'll upload one a night for the next three days :) Cheers!

* * *

Look into my eyes

You will see what you mean to me

-Bryan Adams

Hey Lucy, do you remember me? I remember you. I remember lying next to you in a sea of gold underneath a blue canopy in the warmth of summer time. You smelled like summer, ripe peaches and warm breezes. I couldn't think of anything else except the scent of you, drifting across the lazy air to my nose. With each breath I breathed you in and held it, hoping to hold that smell forever. But of course I had to breathe again, and with each breath out I lamented the loss of you, until I breathed in again. I'd like to think I captured that scent, for it certainly lingers now in my memory.

I remember the feel of your hair, finer than silk and softer than the hair of a kitten. Sometimes it would drape across my outstretched arm and you would not notice so I would not move. My muscles might cramp and scream from want of movement, but I would freeze them for fear of losing that tickle on my skin. Inevitably you would shift position and I would lose it, but no matter the pins and needles in my limbs I felt the loss each time. There were afternoons where I spent all my time moving in as tiny of movements as I could manage in the hope that I would feel the brush of that long hair against my skin without your noticing. Surely you'd find me mad for it, but there it is.

Just like any sixteen year old boy, I craved all the hours of sleep I could manage to get in. Far more than are ever allotted any normal human being, but that is the way we boys are made. I remember, though, your racing up the stairs into my room, laughing like sunshine to rouse me from my snoring and drag me out of doors. I never protested very strongly. I just pulled on my clothes and shoes to follow you. Through the grass, over the hill, to an empty, overgrown field neglected by an owner we never identified. You'd take me to the very centre and there we'd lay, side by side, or sometimes with our heads next to each other and our feet stretching in opposite directions. Your chatter, like a calm babbling brook would flow over and around me as you pointed to the sky and described the shapes you saw in the clouds. I always just agreed, hearing your voice and not always your words as I breathed and willed you not to move, no matter the pain in my awkwardly twisted arm.

Most of all I remember just you. Your hair streaming out behind you like a banner of pearly silk as you skipped through the day, most days barefoot. Skin, soft as rose petals, turned golden by the sun you outshone. In a dress of pale yellow, like a buttercup, petals folded all around like some fairy dancing attendance on a Summer Queen. Yellow was always your favourite colour, and certainly one of mine. But my favourite colour, the one I loved best of all, was blue: the blue of a babbling brook or a deep, deep ocean; a blue far clearer and sparkling brighter than the sky above on a cloudless day. And when you'd turn those blue eyes to look at me my heart would stop and I knew, with the wisdom of a sixteen year old in love, with startling clarity that only the young possess, that I would die happily gazing into your eyes.

Oh Lucy, can you have forgotten? I lived that summer for you. The first morning you burst into my bedroom, clad in yellow and smiling down at me, was the first time I looked at you and saw you. You weren't the gangly, awkward girl I'd always thought I'd known. You no longer blushed when you were teased, you just teased back and laughed with abandon, never knowing what you were doing to my heart. Without a sword, without a word, you conquered my heart and crowned yourself with daisies.

Too many seasons have passed since then for even my infatuated mind to remember all that was. But I remember what mattered to me, and to you as well I've always hoped. For years I wished I'd have had the courage to tell you what I felt, how you'd shattered every notion I'd ever had and replaced them all with you. Now I think I have that chance, to tell you everything and see how you respond. Years have changed everything of course, and I'm not the boy I was then, nor are you the same girl. But perhaps you're that same person and maybe the man isn't so different than the boy. So I wait and hope and wonder. Waiting for my turn to say hello to the girl that's now a woman.

He clutched nervously at the hem of his jacket, feeling as if every eye in the room was on him, watching him and knowing what he was thinking. Surely there was sweat coming from every pore that they would see. His eyes were locked on the one person _not_ looking at him. Not that anyone else was anyway, really, but hell, it sure _felt_ like it. But she hadn't looked at him all that afternoon. He hadn't been able to look away from her. She was resplendent and he felt jealous heat shoot through him each time he saw another man looking at her.

Everyone in the receiving line was taking their damn sweet time greeting the bride in his opinion. Just say hello and get on with it! He saw his brother shoot him a questioning look his way and realized he'd mumbled that one aloud. Oops. Ignoring the glances he strained forward. They were nearly there.

Finally!

His brother gave his greetings to everyone in the wedding party and his sister-in-law cooed over the affair. They moved on down the line after taking _entirely_ too much time and finally it was his turn. He couldn't help the nervous twitch of his littlest finger on his left hand. Shoving that hand in his pocket, he turned up one corner of his mouth and stepped forward.

"Hey, Lucy. Remember me?"


	2. My Foolish Heart

My Foolish Heart

Lovely, never ever change

Keep that breathless charm

-Frank Sinatra

"You look very handsome tonight Lori." His mother smiled up at him serenely, the vibrant yellow of her dress nearly blinding him as he did so. She did look lovely in the colour though, he thought. It suited her in more ways than one. He smiled back down at her, squeezing her hand.

"Thank you Mum. You don't look half bad yourself." She just laughed; the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes the only outward sign of age he could see. His mother was timeless, he thought. Oh yes, alright, she was a bit batty too, but he loved her all the more for it. While her antics were a constant source of amusement, one could never fault her for her imagination. Even as she passed forty and into what most would deem an age at which one must become sensible, his dear mother clung to the innocence and wonder of a child. While still showing wisdom and sense most never had.

As he spun his mother about the dance floor in time to a lively tune played by the band, he kept his eyes in one relative direction. His mother noticed, though he never knew she did, he just couldn't tear his eyes away. She was so bloody _beautiful_ he couldn't stop staring at her if he'd tried. And he'd tried; every time he realized what he was doing he tried to stop. Sometimes he even succeeded for a minute or two before his eyes dragged back to her and he was hypnotized by the sight once more. There she was, standing by a table laden with an assortment of drinks, laughing at something some tall, dark, and handsome bloke was saying. Bloody bastard, whoever he was.

He had pictured their reunion so many times it was bordering on the ridiculous. It changed just a little each time, but the theme remained the same. He said his line, "Hey Lucy, remember me?" then she would look at him for a moment or several without comprehension. Then her eyes would grow large and round with recognition and surprise before finally, with a wordless cry of delight, for she was surely speechless, she would fling herself into his arms and cling to him in a sweet, desperate sort of way. Being the wonderful romantic hero he was, he'd whisper in her ear how much he'd always loved her and then he'd lead her away. They would find a secluded place, maybe a field of flowers or a grassy spot beside a stream, where he'd confess everything to her and she'd respond in like. It ended as he kissed her senseless and they made plans to elope at once.

Actually, she had laughed a bit as if his line was silly then gave him her hand to shake. "Of course I remember you Lorcan. How could I forget? Even if I did, you look just like your brother and I'd have known you right off. How are you?"

The conversation, which he thought was a bit bleak and dry, ended thirty seconds later as she skilfully passed him on down the line so that he could greet her sister, the bride and the rest of the wedding party. Lysander and Monica had been waiting for him at the end of the line. Being twins, Lysander knew his brother quite well and had just shaken his head without comment. "Let's find Mum and Dad."

Now that bloody bloke he didn't know was leading her out onto the dance floor. In his agitation, he forgot the steps to the dance and stumbled. His father cut in smoothly with a grin, telling his son to go off and find some other pretty young thing to dance with, he had plans for this one. Even at twenty-five years of age, Lorcan did _not_ want to hear his father talk about his mother that way. Gagging a bit, he headed off for a corner table, where he found the company of a glass of champagne and a bowl of peanuts. He didn't particularly like peanuts.

Damn. He really wished he knew who that bloke was. He wasn't a terribly nice looking fellow, bit oily if you asked him. Not that anyone was. Especially not _her_. Obviously _she_ thought he was wonderful, the way they were carrying on. Honestly. He couldn't possibly be that funny. Yet there she was, laughing again. How long was this song anyway?

"Lorcan! Bloody hell mate, haven't seen you in years!" A goofy grin pasted on his face, James Potter plopped down next to the jealous man. "How are you?"

He really was glad to see his old friend, so Lorcan tore his eyes away from the dancing couple long enough to say hello. "Oh well enough. And you?"

"Smashing. Absolutely fantastic. I tell you, I love weddings. Plenty of pretty girls dreaming of romance and getting drunk." James just laughed as Lorcan rolled his eyes.

"You know me, I haven't changed a bit." He waggled his eye brows. "Want to join me?"

Lorcan snorted, taking another drink from his glass of champagne. His eyes were on the dancing couple once again and he was barely even aware of it. "Not likely." James followed his gaze.

"Ah, so that's the way of it." James gave a knowing grin. "Always wondered about the two of you, back in the day. Thought you'd sweep her off her feet and all that rubbish. Was a bit surprised I must say when you rode off into the eternal sunset, so to speak, and never even asked her out once."

Lorcan scowled. "There was never anything between us. I don't even know who you're talking about." James just guffawed, slapping his friend on the back."

"Of course you don't. So tell me Lori, where have you been the last, what, seven years? Merlin's teeth, it's really been that long? Christ." He took a long draw on his beer, as if to will away the years.

"Yes, it's been that long. And I've been travelling, working."

"Yeah, I remember Aunt Luna mentioning you travelled a fair bit. What sorts of work you into Lori?"

Resigning himself to a conversation with the persistent Potter, Lorcan gave Lucy and That Bloke one last look and then turned to look at James. "International Relations, actually. I started as an intern after Hogwarts, they sent me to Bolivia with the ambassador. I've been in it ever since. Recently left Pakistan."

"International Relations, eh? What does that have you doing, exactly? Are you a political ambassador?"

"No, I'm not an ambassador. I work for ambassadors. I'm a cultural expert actually, so I study the local settings and report to the ambassador's office."

"Like a spy?" James looked duly impressed and Lorcan was a bit disappointed in correcting him.

"No. Like an analyst. I just mingle, learn the language best I can, and gauge the locals. The climate in the actual citizenship is often much different than what their government presents after all. It's quite a rewarding job. I get to experience all sorts of cultures and peoples and get paid to do it!"

James gave him a big smile. "So you're a domestic spy!"

"Er – sure. That's it."

"Bloody brilliant that. I'd have loved to be a spy." He spaced off for a minute then and Lorcan could see by the look on his face he was probably imagining himself as double-Oh-Potter, saving the world single-handedly.

"Yeah." James said, looking back at Lorcan with a grin. "I'd be brilliant." Lorcan rolled his eyes again.

"James, you're drunk."

"Sloshed, actually. Great fun, weddings. Molly ought to do this more often."

"I don't suppose she's planning on marrying anyone else." Lorcan said drily. "She and Declan seem rather enchanted with each other."

"Enchanted. Enchanted. Good word for it." James burped loudly. "Sorry 'bout that. Yes, enchanted. Apparently it's entirely my fault you know."

"Your fault they're enchanted?"

"Yes. Er – no. What?"

"What's your fault?"

"Oh. Right. Well, them. Their meeting. Or whatever."

"You introduced them?"

"No." James said vaguely. Lorcan rolled his eyes again. James was far beyond sloshed, in his opinion. "Good to see you mate. Look me up while you're about, yeah?" With one last salute with his now empty beer bottle, which, Lorcan assumed, was the reason for his departure, James sauntered off. Was he listing a bit left?

Lorcan smiled with a wry twist to his lips as his old friend moved away. Then his eyes went back to the dance floor, his eyes honing in on the lovely blonde he'd been watching all evening. He frowned. She was still dancing with That Bloke. Who _was_ he? Well, only one way to find out for sure. Draining his second glass of champagne, Lorcan stood with a mission in mind.

Molly was, he had to admit, glowing quite beautifully. Love, and this newly wedded state, really seemed to do wonders for her. Not that Molly hadn't always been quite pretty, but this was new. Lorcan smiled, unable to prevent it. Her happiness was positively contagious. She smiled beatifically when she saw him approaching.

"Lorcan Scamander! I haven't seen you in years!" She gave him a light hug and then turned to introduce him to her husband. "Declan, this is Lorcan. I know you've met his brother, Lysander and sister-in-law Monica. He's Rolf and Luna's son."

"Hello, mate." Declan smiled easily, obviously quite in love with the petite woman by his side. "Nice to meet you." His lilting Irish brogue was infused with friendliness and warmth. Lorcan decided he liked this tall, dark haired Irishman.

"And you. Congratulations to you both, I wish you the best." They thanked him and exchanged a few more pleasantries before Lorcan smiled and said, "Well, I did come over here to ask the lovely bride for a dance. Do you mind?"

"Not a'tall!" Declan smiled easily, planting a kiss on Molly's nose before turning her over to Lorcan.

"Oh Lorcan, it is so good to have you here. I can't believe how long it's been since we saw you last. How long has it been?"

"Ah, seven years."

"Seven years. What's been keeping you away?"

"I travel a lot for work. It doesn't leave much time for home, unfortunately."

"Oh? What do you do?"

"I'm a cultural analyst for the International Relations department at the Ministry."

"That sounds very interesting." She said sincerely. "What exactly do you do?"

"I immerse myself in foreign cultures to really learn them, and get a feel for the feelings of the people. Then I write long, dry reports for ambassadors, or their aides rather, to read."

"So you work for an ambassadors?"

"Many, actually. None in particular." He turned her into his arms as the band struck up a fresh melody. The dance floor was full of people, but he couldn't spot Lucy anywhere.

"Oh. Lucy works for Ambassador Hinkle, in Italy. She is home fairly often though. Have you ever been to Italy to work?" Lorcan missed the speculative gleam in Molly's eyes.

"No. I work in countries our Ministry is just beginning relations with. Established countries don't use my sort of analyst unless there is a large upheaval in the political clime. So our paths would never cross."

"Oh, I see." Lorcan did not, however, see Lucy. Anywhere. "I just thought that, your working for the same department and all, you might."

"I don't, in truth, see very many people at all. It's a rather secluded sort of work."

"I would imagine. And no chance to come home to visit." Lorcan just smiled in response and they danced in silence for a few moments. Then he spotted her. She was _still_ with the same bloke she'd been with for an hour. Didn't she know how to mingle?

"How is Lucy, Molly?" Busy watching the subject of his curiosity, he missed the laughter in Molly's eyes.

"Oh, she's quite well."

"Likes her job?"

"Yes, she loves it, I think."

"So, what do you think? Will she follow you in matrimony?" Lorcan refused to look at Molly as he asked the question, trying to feign disinterest. It might have worked, had the subject of his gaze not been so obvious to the grinning bride.

"I suppose so, someday. Who knows?"

"Hmm." He let it lie for exactly six seconds. "Who's that she's with? I don't recognize him."

"Oh, him? That's just Marcus Hepplewhite. Friend of Declan's. Has quite the thing for Lucy, it seems, for all that he's known her a week. She's been very nice about it though. Nothing like Domi would be." Lorcan chuckled thinking of Molly's cousin and best friend. Dominique Weasley, now Healey, was a firebrand of a woman.

"No. Nothing like Domi."

"Go ask her to dance, Lori. I'm sure she'd appreciate the salvation."

"She looks like she's enjoying herself, I wouldn't want to interrupt and drag her away."

"No, no. I'm sure she'd love it."

"Are you sure? She might be upset I messed up her date."

"Of course I'm sure! That's no date, Lori. Just go ask her."

"Well – maybe I should." Molly shoved him off, watching him go with a shake of her head. Honestly, the man was thick as a grand old oak.

Lorcan cleared his throat, looking down at Lucy and Hepplewhite. Really, what kind of a name was that anyway? That Blok e looked annoyed, but Lucy smiled. Oh, it was a small smile as smiles went and she seemed tentative, but she did smile at him. Beginnings had to begin somewhere, right?

"Yes, Lorcan?" After she spoke, Lorcan realized he'd been standing with his mouth open as if her were about to speak for several seconds. Bloody hell, he looked like an idiot.

"Er – yes. I came to ask you if you'd like to dance." He told her. A small but genuine smile curved her lips then. Lorcan held out his hand. "May I have – _your life, your love, your forever_ – this dance?"


	3. Half Timing, Half Luck

Half Timing, Half Luck

I know someday that it'll all work out

You'll make me work so we can work to work it out

-Michael Bublé

Lorcan thought he would sprout wings and fly when Lucy put her hand in his. It seemed as if the world itself stood still. Everything froze and for one moment it was just them, hand in hand, eyes locked together, alone. Nothing and no one else mattered. They could not intrude on this moment. He felt a spark, a connection, as if by placing her hand in his she had made everything right in his world. Planets aligned, stars sang and he would never be the same.

Dancing was the key to her heart, he was sure of it. If he could hold her in his arms she would remember everything he did. Like a slide show, every memory he had of her slid before his eyes in bright colours of summer and young love. He remembered every detail of hat summer they spent together, each kiss, every smile she sent his way. Fate had brought them to this moment; he knew it better than he knew anything else.

Mesmerized, he watched the movement of her lips. It wasn't until they stopped that he realized what she had been saying.

"Thank you, Lorcan, I'd love to dance. It's always nice to see an old school friend." She smiled as if everything were normal, as if she hadn't just shattered his world. Hers, it seemed, had kept right on spinning, and Lorcan was left behind.

This, he thought, was not how it was supposed to happen. He had spent the last half hour of his life figuring exactly how it would go. How her breath would catch, how she would feel that spark of connection, how memories would assault her and her world would freeze. Then she'd give a breathless yes' and they would dance, their worlds spinning in time to one another's.

Lorcan smiled blandly and led her toward the dance floor. He barely saw anything around him, so distracted was he by his racing thoughts. He took Lucy to the very centre of the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. The band was just moving into a new song, an old jazz tune his parents had likely listened to while they were young. Molly loved this sort of music.

Whoever had chosen the band had made an excellent decision, Lorcan thought. Their music selection was made with impeccable timing. The singer, a rather handsome young man dressed in a muggle suit, began the song with a low crooning and went on in low tones, singing a quiet love song. Lorcan thought he'd never felt anything so wonderful as this woman in his arms, her hand resting in his and the other on his shoulder. He could have sworn he could feel the warmth of it through the layers of coat and shirt.

Her honey hair was caught up in an intricate style that he couldn't even begin to guess the possibility of. But he knew he liked it. The sleek, straight strands all neatly bound on the back of her head, with just a few wisps to frame her heart shaped face. He barely knew what the music was, unable to tear his gaze away from her face. That Cupid 's bow mouth had just a hint of a smile at the corners. It teased him, refusing to shine upon him just yet. She was watching the other couples as they spun by, the light of life shining in her eyes at it always had.

"It really is good to see you again, Lorcan." She said, smiling. "It's been so many years."

"Good to see you too Lucy, you've really grown up." Lucy laughed softly.

"Last you saw of me I was barely seventeen and you were headed off for the exciting world of foreign affairs. Yes, Lorcan, I've grown up a bit since then."

They danced in silence for a few moments; Lorcan had something new to think about. Maybe, he thought to himself, he was going about this the wrong way. Obviously, Lucy was not the same carefree sixteen year old girl he'd fallen in love with . She was twenty three now, and grown up. All grown up, Lorcan thought, with an appreciative glance downward.

"Er – oh. Um, you know. Working."

"International Relations, right?" He blinked. She knew? No one else had any idea, even though he knew he'd told them what he was going into before he left seven years ago. But she remembered.

"Uh, yeah. That's right. Cultural analyst, actually."

"Oh, so it's no wonder our paths never crossed." She looked over his shoulder at something. "I always wondered if they might, when I chose that field."

"Really? And, what made you decide on that field of work?"

She shrugged, giving him a mysterious smile that set his heart to racing. "Oh, I don't know. Just seemed like an interesting job I guess."

"So, are you an aide to an ambassador?"

"No, actually. I'm an advisor."

"So your job is similar to mine, only you get to infiltrate the upper echelons rather than the common?" Lorcan gave her a boyish grin.

Lucy's laugh rang in the evening air. "Something like that. When I tried to explain it to James, he kept asking me if I was a spy."

"He asked me the same thing. Bloody idiot." The lopsided grin still on his face softened the insult in his words. "Double-oh-Potter, dashing spy who saves the world single-handedly."

"Don't forget 'and get's the girl'." They laughed together over the thought of her cousin and his friend. A goofier soul Lorcan wasn't sure he'd ever met, but he was a great friend.

They lapsed into silence then, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one. He revelled in the feel of her warm skin under his hand, and the silk of her dress between them. His eyes were drawn to her golden hair and the way the setting sun played amongst the strands. Honey and silver all mixed together, just as he remembered it. He wondered if it was as soft as he remembered, softer than the silk of her dress. A mad urge to pull all the pins out of her hair and run his fingers through it itched in his hands. He only just restrained himself from it.

"That's a serious look on your face." She said with a small half smile. "Concentrating too hard are we?"

Lorcan startled and looked into her eyes. Her amusement glittered back at him. "Oh – ah – no. Not that. Ehrm..." Lucy laughed softly. Lorcan gave a sheepish smile. "Just thinking.

"So, are you next?" He asked, pasting a smile on his face, pretending her answer didn't obsess him.

"Next to what?"

"Get married. I mean, Dom is married, Molly is now, Rose is. Seems like you're next."

Lucy looked somewhere over his shoulder, a little half smile playing on her lips. The music slowed down, the song changing, and Lorcan pulled her a little bit closer. One hand was all too aware of her warm soft skin, and the other tingling with the feel of soft satin, is thumb on the bare skin between her shoulder blades. For the first time, as he asked the question, Lorcan felt all the years between them. He felt the distance and the fear that time had changed things more than he had thought.

"I don't know," she looked back at him. "Maybe. I mean, I'm among the last of the girls, even Lily is married. But who knows? Maybe Albus, or James, will marry before me. Or Louis. None of us has anyone in particular. But if I had to guess, I'd guess Roxy."

"You don't have anyone? No old boyfriends cropping up? No prospects?"

Lucy laughed. "No, none. Quite the third degree here Lorcan."

"Sorry." He flushed.

"Okay then, how about you? Any old girlfriends? Prospects?" She laughed again as Lorcan turned red.

"No. Well – I mean..." He looked down at her with a look she couldn't interpret. "There is one girl. But I don't think she realized I'm interested."

Lucy looked at him curiously. "Oh really? Well, you better just tell her then. A girl can't be expected to wait forever, so don't let her go." Lorcan nodded as the music came to an end. Lucy pulled away, and reluctantly Lorcan's arms dropped.

"Thanks for asking me to dance, I enjoyed it."

"You've always liked to dance."

She nodded. "I have. You remembered."

"I remember lots of things."

Surely now, he thought, she would see. See how he had never forgotten her. And more than that, he remembered her. Remembered every detail. Now she would remember too and she would smile a soft smile meant only for him. She would say how she'd been waiting for him to come back to her. How she would always love him.

"You have always had a good memory; it served you well in school." She laughed as she guided them away from the dance floor. "There's something I remember." She looked up at him with a grin on her face, clearly expecting him to laugh at her self-deprecating humour. Lorcan cracked a weak smile.

"Oh, there's Louis! I promised him a dance. Take care Lorcan, I'll see you." Throwing him another of her brighter-than-sunshine smile, she was gone.

That, Lorcan thought dully, could have gone better. He had stood by dumbly as Lucy had gone off to dance with her cousin. _Her cousin_. She didn't even ditch him for a rival. He was brought low. Unable to glower at Lucy's newest dance partner because he was her cousin and he couldn't fault her for familiar affection, Lorcan instead settled for glowering at his beer.

Normally, he didn't drink much. After one weekend during seventh year that ended in vomit, he hadn't been able to even think about getting drunk. Just now there were two empty bottles in front of him and he was working on a third. He knocked back another drink and balanced on two legs of his chair. Maybe if he cracked his skull open on the floor Lucy would notice him.

"Not likely, mate." Lorcan nearly fell over and tested the theory, startled by the sound of a voice behind him. He barely regained his balance, coming down heavily on all four legs of the chair. His brother gave him a pounding on the back, laughing as he dropped into the chair beside him. Lorcan shrugged off his hand.

"What's not likely?" He asked, what his brother had said registering after he had two elbows planted securely on the table.

"Lucy noticing you," Lysander replied, smirking. "Not even if you brain yourself." Lorcan glowered and muttered under his breath.

"You're letting this get to you?" Lysander asked, eyebrows rising.

"Letting what get to me?"

"This – " Lysander waved his hand expressively. "thing – with Lucy Weasley."

"It's not getting to me." Lysander laughed. "It's not!" Lorcan demanded. "Seriously."

The brothers sat in silence for a moment, Lysander nodding his head but not looking as if he really believed his brother.

"Look, Lorcan, you're my twin brother. I know things have changed over the last few years, what with you going off to places unknown and my getting married, but we're still brothers – twins. And I still know you better than anyone else ever will, just as you do me. O don't fool yourself and do us both a favour. We both know I know you're lying."

Lorcan could feel his brother watching him but didn't look up. He hung his head even lower, picking at the table linen with his fingernail. Lysander leaned back against his chair, watching Lucy twirl around the floor with Louis, they were both laughing.

"What is it about her Lori? She's just another girl." Lorcan looked up then and they were both watching the blonde cousins dance.

"What is it about her? What is it about Monica? What does Declan see in Molly, what does Teddy seen in Rose?" Lysander studied his brother. Lorcan couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Lucy.

"She shines, Lysander."

Where Lysander had always been a rowdy all around boy who loved quidditch and wooden swords, Lorcan had always been a dreamer, absorbed in his books. When they played knights, Lysander wanted to fight the dragon and Lorcan wanted to save the princess. Lysander snuck out at night to meet Monica, Lorcan to stare gaze. While Lysander had always taken after their father, Lorcan took after his dreamy mother.

Lysander sighed. "I suppose I see what you mean. Still, it has been seven years Lor. Did you really think she would just be sitting around waiting for you?" Lorcan's cheeks turned pink and Lysander shook his head, a smile of affectionate exasperation on his lips.

"It doesn't work that way Lorcan. I suppose you thought you'd make a few witty comments, she would remember how wonderful you are, and beg you to marry her."

"No." He replied, belligerently. At least, he thought, not quite like that.

"Seven years is a long time Loir."

"We were in love!" Lorcan blurted out suddenly, and then more quietly. "We were in love. You don't just forget you were in love with someone. How can she have just forgotten? Didn't she know I was coming back?"

"Seven years Lori. She hasn't heard from you in seven years, so why would she still be waiting? Wake up Lor, this isn't one of your books. Everything isn't going to just fall into place because you love someone."

"It did for you!"

Lysander stared at Lorcan, taken aback, shocked.

"Monica and I?" He asked with a tone of disbelief. "Is that what you think? Dear god, Lorcan, we did everything _except_ fall neatly into place. You just don't know it, you were gone for so long."

"I know you had a rough patch a couple of years ago, but everything worked out. You were in love all through school and then you got married. That's all I want too."

Lysander dragged a hand though his hair, letting out a harsh bark of laughter. "Jesus Lorcan. We love each other, yes, and we got married, but it sure as hell isn't all sunshine and roses. It's work, we work at it every day."

Lorcan just looked at him.

"She left me, Lori. Four years ago. Packed up everything one day and just left. And it was my fault. I took her for granted. Figured that we had always been together and always would be. Someday I'd ask her to marry me, I just kept telling myself that. Finally one day she just had had enough. She wasn't going to sit around waiting for me to decide I was ready.

"I worked hard for moths to get her back. Quit staying out all night, started cleaning up after myself, got a real job and bought a ring. I learned I couldn't just go off and expect her to wait for me. She wasn't going to.

"You want Lucy? Great. She's a great girl and one upon a time you two really had something. But that something is just an old memory now. You have to start something new. So don't sit around just waiting for things to fall into place, Lori, you have to work for what you want."

The brothers sat quietly after that, Lysander smiling as he watching his wife dancing with his father, Lorcan studying the table top. Thought raced through his mind, his brothers' speech had left him reeling. He resolved to take Lysander's advice and to do so quickly. He looked up and spotted Lucy, walking alone away from the party.

Lysander watched with amusement as Lorcan stood abruptly. "Going somewhere?"

"I have to do." He looked down at Lysander, nodded once, and strode away.


	4. Enchanted

Lucy was slowly meandering through the formal gardens, skimming her fingers over the flowers beside the path. Her head was bent to one side as if she were smelling them as well. The sun cast her in a golden shadow, dancing through her hair and Lorcan's breath caught in his chest. He was sure he had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. Unless it was a sixteen year old Lucy lying in a field of daisies, smiling up at the stars.

_But she's not sixteen anymore – she's twenty-three._

He realized he wanted that. He had loved the sixteen year old, innocent Lucy and now he wanted Lucy the woman. Who still preferred the quiet flowers to the crowd. Who still hummed to herself and got so lost in herself she didn't hear him coming up behind her.

"Lucy?" She didn't startle though, just looked up at him. When she saw who it was, she smiled.

"Hi Lorcan. Enjoying the party?"

"It's all right." He stood beside her in silence as she bent to smell a rose, a small smile on her lips. He felt nervous, his palms were sweaty and his breath came faster.

"It's beautiful here." She said softly. "I love gardens like these."

"Do you remember when we were kids? And we would sneak out to go lie in that field and look at the stars?" He blurted it out before he could lose his courage. Lucy smiled and nodded. "That was the best part of my summers."

"Mine too Lorcan. It was beautiful." They walked in silence for some time more until they stood at the centre of the gardens and Lucy slipped her fingers through the water of the fountain. It was a slightly larger than life Venus, her gown slipping down her shoulder, her hair cascading down her back. She was staring into the distance, one hand beckoning as if to a lover and one clutched to her breast. Lorcan thought she looked mournful, as if reaching for a lover retreating. He turned his back and sat on the edge of the fountain.

"It's been a long time since then." He said.

"It has."

Taking a deep breath, Lorcan caught her gaze and spoke. "I thought I was in love with you, then."

"I know." She said simply, sitting beside him and looking up at the sky. "I thought I loved you too." Her smile was warm and friendly.

"Lucy –" He hesitated and she looked up at him, the setting sun reflecting in her eyes and he saw that she knew. She knew, in some way, what he was trying to say.

"I – I wish we hadn't grown apart."

"It was seven years ago Lorcan, we were just children." There was sad honesty in her eyes. "What else could have happened?"

"I could have taken work that didn't take me away from you."

"But you did what you wanted to do and you can't really regret that."

"I could have written. Could have come back to visit more."

Lucy laid a hand on his arm and smiled. "You were happy Lorcan. You still are. And I wouldn't have changed that for anything. I was happy too, doing what I was doing."

"Why did you choose your job?" He asked, voicing the same curiosity he had to Molly earlier. Before, when he'd known her, he never would have thought that she would end up where she was. He'd have imagined her working as a florist, or with children. Not in a high profile, international relations position.

Lucy shrugged and looked away. He knew when she spoke it would be the truth though – there had always been honesty between them, in the end. "At first, I wanted something that took me away from home. I missed you, you know. Like any eighteen year old girl who supposes her heart is broken, I was determined to get far away. Then, I thought perhaps it would take me close to you. But in the end I chose something I knew wouldn't. But that perhaps could. So – I guess I was chasing you."

Lorcan stood in silence, staring at the water to his left and not the girl to his right. No – not girl – woman. There were so many things he'd thought he'd known when he was eighteen and now he knew that he was all wrong. About so many things. About everything. He swallowed hard, thinking about what Lysander had said and what he wanted to say.

"Lucy... Lu. Merlin I had this all planned out." He laughed drily, running a sweaty hand through his hair. Lucy looked up at him curiously, a single flower from a hydrangea between her fingers.

"Remember when we were just kids? All of little snots running around your Gram's? James and Fred and Lysander were always playing at Quidditch or aurors, and I just wanted to play knights and dragons. The only way they would agree is if one of them got to be the dragon and the other two got to kill him. I was just there to save the princess. You were the only one who would ever play princess. Molly always wanted to be the grieving queen and Dom wanted to be a dragon too and Roxy had to be Molly's lady-in-waiting."

"Yes, I remember."

"Running off – leaving to go travel the world – it was me slaying the dragon for once." Lucy tilted her head to one side, her fine hair slipping from the pins and forming a halo in the sunlight. "I never got to be the one to slay the dragon. I never got to be the hero. I just got the girl without doing any of the work. I wanted the excitement, that's why I took the job.

"And it's been amazing. The people, the places I've seen. I don't regret it for an instant. But I kind of lost perspective. I forgot why I left in the first place."

"Why did you leave, then, Lorcan?"

_N.E.W.T.s were over, the school year was over. Hogwarts was over. Lorcan left breakfast in the Great Hall for the last time, knowing that just after lunch that afternoon he would board the Hogwarts Express for the last time and start his life as an adult wizard. As he left, he spotted Lucy coming toward him. She smiled, coming up beside him and switching directions to walk beside him._

"_Want to go outside?" She asked. The weather was warm and bright._

"_Great."_

"_How did your tests go?"_

"_Really well, I think. Although the Charms Written I'm a little nervous about." Lucy laughed and smiled up at him._

"_I'm sure you did brilliantly. You always do." They walked in silence for a bit. Down the steps, across the lawns, to their favourite spot by the lake. A few other students had already ventured out as well. Everyone was packed up and ready to leave, so with their last hours they were relaxing in the sunshine. A group of Slytherins were tossing a quaffle around and Lorcan spotted the Head Boy from Ravenclaw teasing a group of girls. Lysander and Monica were under a tree, only doing a bit of actual talking._

_Lucy settled in her favourite spot by the lake and Lorcan settled down beside her. "So, have you heard back from any of the inquiries you sent out?"_

_Lorcan had sent out no less than six letters of inquiry about a job. "Yes. Four of them. Two I'm definitely not interested in, one wants to see my results before they commit, and one says I can start immediately."_

"_Which was that?"_

"_The Leaky Cauldron."_

"_What!"_

_He chuckled. "No, just kidding. The Welsh Dragon Reserve, actually. But I think I'll pass that one on to Lysander. He's more likely to be interested in that."_

"_So? What are you thinking about the third?"_

_Lorcan took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "I'm thinking... I might take it. It would be really interesting. Exciting, enriching, rewarding."_

"_And it is?"_

"_Cultural Analyst for the Department of International Relations."_

"_A what?"_

"_Basically, I'll travel all over the world and immerse myself in the culture of nations the British Ministry is trying to build or improve relations with. Then report back to the DIR about what I've learned. Lots of travelling so I'd get to see the world."_

_Lucy was quiet. "So you'll be gone. A lot."_

"_Yeah. I guess so."_

"_But you'll come back?"_

"_I really want to do this. I want to get out of here and see the world! I want to be a new person. Do something exciting. Like your uncle Bill – only not so dangerous. But of course I'll come back. You know – when I can."_

Lorcan stared down at Lucy. For the first time, he saw more than just friendly curiosity. There was a real question in her eyes and intensity. This answer was possibly going to be the most important thing he ever said. He really didn't want to mess this up.

"I left because – because I was afraid. Afraid that I was never going to measure up to Lysander or James or Fred. So I took a job that would take me far away from here and give me the chance to make a name for myself, without their reputation overshadowing it. They're brilliant. They do exciting things and I was always the one who just had to go in afterwards and tidy up. They killed the dragons and I had to help the princess climb out of the tree without ripping her dress. By the time I was done they had already moved on and I was left out – again.

"I left because I wanted to prove that I can do more than just hold your hand while we walk. More than just keep your dress from ripping. I can provide and protect and be everything you need. Lucy, I left because I was so bloody in love with you I didn't know what else to do."

"You loved me?"

He laughed without humour. "I still love you." He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. This was _not_ how this was supposed to go. It was supposed to be happy and amazing and she was supposed to throw herself into her arms and say that he had finally done it. He had conquered the world and she was his to claim.

A soft hand cupped his cheek, the other twining fingers through his own. He looked over into blue, earnest eyes.

"That's all you ever needed to do, you silly knight."


End file.
